Chapter 477: Promise
"Did they all have to die?"
I’d had a thousand things I wanted to ask. That wasn’t one of them, but the question slipped out before I could stop it. The Lord of Ash’s eyes widened slightly, and I quickly looked away, my tail twitching nervously. Now was not the time to question this demon, not when so much rested on securing his help. How could I have allowed myself to speak so carelessly?
Instead of getting angry, the Lord of Ash chuckled, a deep, resonant growl like the crackling of a bonfire. "You’ve changed, little one," he rumbled, "but not so much that I can’t recognize you." His voice hardened. "And yes, they touched one they shouldn’t have. It’s only natural their entire kingdom shall burn."
I let out a small breath of relief, my shoulders slumping slightly. If he was willing to discuss it, I had one more question to venture. "But why all of them? Couldn’t you have spared the innocent in the city?"
"Spared?" his tail twitched in confusion, brushing over the pile of ashes that had once been the king. "Spare them for what? I have brought them peace and allowed their souls to travel to a world far from this conflict. Death is not a great injustice, but the only justice. I have freed them before they were even enslaved."
My tail twitched in surprise. Did he know about the gods’ plans for this world? But even so, how could he just—
"Besides," he interrupted my thoughts, his claws curling into fists, flames erupting between his fingers. "They dared hurt that which was precious to me, one who I vowed to protect. Any who so blatantly mock my cause shall suffer the fires of hell."
There was something familiar about the way he spoke. It wasn’t his voice, as all demons shared that same deep, resonant quality, but something subtle, something I couldn’t quite grasp. His cadence, tone, and a certain tendency to lecture all teased at the edges of my memory, stirring half-buried thoughts I’d long since forgotten.
I’d never met this demon before, so why did he sound so...fond of me? Why waste time sharing his philosophies of death with an insignificant demonkin he could crush with a single hand? Why did he care that his actions hurt me, and thus try to justify them?